You Are An Inner Sense/Ti Si Unutrasnje Culo Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

You are an inner sense
that makes everything else disappear
the sign written upon my brow
cannot be placed under fingertips
the touches killed will grow again
in spring out of ground
the fruits of death picked up
dropp the living wounds into young graves
so the grains can cry out your name in tears
elevated by death into heaven
like these dresses of mine lifted by storm
thrown into the clouds
like these dresses of mine by thunder
piled up in rags I am piled into a song
like these dresses of mine burned by lightening

You are a inner sense
That makes everything else disappear
A diamond cutting my dreams
A saphire for the sky to paint
A ruby with which I open the blood
The gold in which I turn the sunflower
The silver in which I throw stars into the night

You are an inner sense
That makes everything else disappear


Ti si unutrasnje culo
Od koga nestaje sve
Na celu ispisan znak
Ne moze stati pod jagodice
Ubijeni dodiri izniknuce
S proljecem iz zemlje
Ubrani plodovi smrti
U mlade gromove zive rane spusti
Da prplace grumenje ime tvoje
Smrcu u nebesa noseno
Ko halje moje olujom
U oblake bacene
Ko halje moje gromom
U pjesmu zguzvana stacu ko krpa
Ko halje moje munjom sprzene

Ti si unutrasnje culo
Od koga nestaje sve
Dijamant kojim sjecem snove
Safir kojim bojim nebo
Rubin kojim otvaram krv
Zlato u kome okrecem suncokret
Srebro kojim zvijezde bacam u noc

Ti si unutrasnje culo
Od koga nestaje sve